


Realisation

by reachingforthestardust



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean in Denial, Denial, M/M, One Shot, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachingforthestardust/pseuds/reachingforthestardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe he is drunk, Sam thinks. Otherwise his older brother, the manliest man there ever was, would never be caught dead having a ‘chick-flick moment’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Realisation

The emptiness is malicious when it finally catches up to him. It leaves no stone unturned, permeates the air he breathes, engulfs him in a tsunami formed from years of loneliness and his own self-loathing. He’s not surprised when he wakes up one day and the hollow ache that he gets from his nightmares doesn’t fade away like it usually does in the morning light. He’d known it was coming for a while, seen the tell-tale signs in the mirror he used only to shave – dark circles under his eyes and a tired look of resignation that seemed to be permanently painted on his face. It’s probably not normal for someone to feel like this, he realises, but since when has his life ever been normal?

  
It takes a few weeks before his brother finally notices that something is up. Thus follows the usual emotional-bullet-dodging that causes a rift between them for the days following. The ache in his stomach only grows.

  
About a week after their ‘civil conversation’ that had ended up with Sam storming out, again, his brother’s had enough. He receives an ultimatum – man up and spill his feelings or stay a ‘fucked-up, emotionally-stunted pencil case,’ for all Sam cares. The latter option was a bit of a surprise, and just a tiny bit insulting, but he gladly took it anyway. He’d do anything than admit that he just couldn’t do it anymore, ‘it’ being life. Sam stormed out, an occurrence that was fast becoming a habit.

  
When he finally dragged his head out of the sand, and faced himself, just as Sam had intended on guilting him into doing the entire time, the conclusions he drew scared him into his room for a week, leaving it only once or twice a day for food and the bathroom. His brother continued to ignore him, although he had the sneaking feeling that he checked on him when he managed to catch a few fitful hours of sleep, plagued by visions of Hell and Purgatory.

  
On the eighth day, he left his room early enough to make Sam an apology breakfast. His brother accepted it gracefully; a look of understanding was on his face and there was so much pity in his eyes that he nearly turned tail and retreated back to the relative safety of his room. But he was a man and stuck it out.

  
So of course, later that afternoon when they’re lying around watching TV and imbibing copious amounts of beer, Sam gives him enough sideways glances that he lets it all out. Of course, he blames it on the alcohol afterwards. His brother takes the hint and refrains from mentioning that his brother’s tolerance is now so high that it’s practically impossible for him to get drunk anymore.

  
“It’s just like me, isn’t it?” Dean says. Sam couldn’t agree more, but he knows better than to say that aloud.  
“Why’d it have to be him?” He continues, and Sam just shakes his head. Maybe because Dean can’t ever seem to get what he wants? Once again, he remains silent, and Dean takes it as encouragement to go on. Maybe he is drunk, Sam thinks. Otherwise his older brother, the manliest man there ever was, would never be caught dead having a ‘chick-flick moment’.  
“I think I miss him.”


End file.
